by Jill Knowles
She settled back into the chair, sliding the shotgun over to rest on the seat of the other chair, barrel pointing away from her.
A hard lump was digging into her side, making her uncomfortable. My phone. She’d only had the cell phone for just over a month and still forgot about it sometimes. She pulled it from its case on her belt and checked the battery charge. It was at full capacity. The signal wasn’t at full strength, but she thought it would be enough for a call into Keily. She dialed Sean’s number. Funny, he’s the first person I think to call, and has been for a while now. Thinking back, she realized that except for their Sunday brunches, she and Julie hadn’t spent any time together outside of work for more than a year.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Sean, it’s Maggie.”
“Hey, Mags. So what was going on between you and Dax Hunter? The tension was thick enough to spread.”
“A misunderstanding.” Or something like that. “Listen. Remember the creepy place?”
“That ridge by the Red Queen mine? Tommy Jenkins and I used to go out there to fool around when we were teenagers. Why?”
She hesitated, unsure how to describe it with just a few words. “Dax and I have found an archaeologically significant site. We told Joni Taylor about it.”
“And her office was robbed this afternoon. Damn. Junior and Suzie are working the case. Fucking looters.”
“Yeah. We’re here, now, and Joni’s supposed to bring reinforcements tomorrow morning.”
“Whoever stole the map doesn’t seem too afraid to break the law. I don’t think you should be there.”
“Sean, this is going to be huge. There are bodies, and baskets, and clothing. And it’s old. Really, really old.”
“Shit. That mean’s it’s really, really valuable. Junior has to work until midnight, but he’s off work tomorrow. We’ll get Suzie and head out in the morning.”
“Thanks. I have another favor to ask.”
“Anything.”
Did I know what a wonderful friend I have in Sean? “Keep your phone beside you tonight. If anything happens, I’ll call. Joni was pretty sure the thieves had to be Forest Service employees. I should recognize them. If anyone shows up, I’m going to call and tell you who it is.”
“Be careful.”
“You know it.” She took a sip of her tea. “I’d better go. I don’t want to use up my battery.”
“You know what? I’m going to call Junior and head out now. I don’t like the thought of the two of you being alone.”
“Sean ...” She wanted to tell him not to come, but knew it wouldn’t do any good. Besides, the extra help would be more than welcome if the thieves showed up.
“Have you eaten anything?”
“Not much. We weren’t expecting to spend the night out of town.” Her stomach growled so loudly, she looked down at it, hoping the noise wouldn’t wake Dax.
“Cool. I’ll stop at Pizza Geyser and get a couple of pies and some fried chicken.”
“I’d kill for pepperoni right about now.”
“Expect me within two and a half hours. I’ll call when I’m a few miles away, to let you know it’s me.”
“Thanks, Sean. See ya soon.”
Chapter Fifteen
It was fully dark when Dax awakened. He lay still, held frozen by an indefinable dread. Tremors coursed up and down his spine like electrical currents in a mad scientist’s lab. His shoulder spasmed as terror forced his body into its true form. I have to move. Maggie’s outside alone with that thing. Move, Dax! It was no use. His muscles refused to obey him. Then, as quickly as the feeling of dread began, it was gone.
Ignoring his throbbing wound, he rolled over and crawled from the tent, grabbing his gun as he did so. His heart in his throat, he looked toward the last place he had seen the woman who’d become so important to him.
The nearly full moon provided plenty of light for him to see. Maggie sat staring out past the ridge, her hands clenched on the arms of her chair while the butt of the shogun protruded over the edge of the other chair. His relief at seeing her made his knees go watery, and he stumbled as he started toward her. Not wanting to take the chance of startling her into reaching for the gun, he called, “Maggie,” in a soft voice.
Her shoulders tensed, then relaxed. “It’s gone.”
He put his gun in its holster and clipped it to his belt. Stopping in front of her, he asked, “Did you see anything?” He couldn’t hear anything but their breath, couldn’t smell anything but dirt and Maggie and fear, and couldn’t sense anything but the usual undercurrent of energy.
“Not a thing.” She looked him over. “You’re all demoned out.” Before he could respond, she was in his arms.
He pulled her close. Chestnut hair tickled his nose, and he breathed in the lavender scent of her shampoo, the apple scent of her body, and the sharp tang of fear.
“I need you,” she said just before her lips covered his. Exploring his mouth aggressively, she caressed every inch. When she cut the side of her tongue on one of his canines, she pulled back slightly, then opened her mouth and invited him inside.
Kissing her while in his true form was like seeing color for the first time. Dax ran his tongue over her teeth, her lips, and the insides of her cheeks. The flavors, textures, and sensations were magnified a hundred fold. And her tongue -- rough, slick, hot, and soft. The apple and iced-tea taste of her mouth was an aphrodisiac, and the hint of coppery blood a promise. He couldn’t get enough, and from the way she clutched his arms and met him stroke for stroke, neither could she. The hard points of her tits pressed against his chest, and she rubbed her groin against his rigid shaft. He’d just grasped her ass and pulled her hard against him when bright lights splashed over them.
They broke apart as if they’d choreographed it. Dax drew his revolver, and Maggie grabbed the shotgun. As he pulled his gun free of the holster, he shifted to his human form, hoping whoever it was hadn’t seen anything. Then again, most humans would simply assume their eyes had played a trick on them if they had seen anything unusual. I hope. The nap had helped, but he was still exhausted. The SUV parked next to Bertha, and Maggie’s friend from the library bounced out. Dax breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the younger man, but kept his gun ready, just in case.
“Hey, guys, sorry to interrupt that seriously hot lip-lock. On the plus side, I have pizza and fried chicken and fried chicken pizza. Hope you like deep dish.” Sean closed his door and opened the door to the back seat. As he leaned inside, he said, “Sorry I didn’t call first to warn you. I couldn’t get a signal. And the weirdest thing happened a few minutes ago.” The redhead turned around, his arms full with three large flat boxes, an enormous white paper bag on top. His eyes found Dax’s revolver and Maggie’s shotgun, and he froze. “Um, guys?”
“Sorry, Sean.” Maggie put the shotgun on the ground beside her chair. Dax followed suit, but put his holstered gun in the pocket on the chair back.
Bustling forward, Maggie kissed her friend on the cheek and relieved him of his load.
Dax’s shoulder took the opportunity to remind him that he was injured, sending a sullen ache down his arm. He ignored it, stepping forward to take the paper bag from Maggie. The scent of chicken, French fries, grease, and salt made his mouth water. It was a good thing he wasn’t in his true form any longer, or he’d be drooling venom. As it was, he barely stifled the urge to clasp the bag to his chest and snarl, “Mine!”
While Dax and Maggie dealt with moving the table in front of the two camp chairs, Sean retrieved a third chair from the back of his SUV and placed it opposite them. Paper plates and napkins came out of the bag that held the chicken, though none of them bothered with silverware.
For the next half hour, they concentrated on the consumption of food, and the only sounds they made were soft murmurs of appreciation.
Dax pigged out. The fried chicken pizza was unusual, but excellent. Barbecue sauce instead of marinara, lots of cheese, chunks of crispy fried chicken, hush puppies and
onions was a wonderful combination of flavors.
Finally, when they were all sated, Sean carried the leftovers to his SUV, putting them in the back and out of reach of any scavengers.
Dax wiped his greasy fingers on a paper napkin as he watched the younger man putter around cleaning things up. There was something different about the younger man tonight, something he hadn’t seen before. After Sean rejoined him and Maggie at the table, Dax asked the question that had been bothering him since Sean’s arrival. “What did you see earlier? The weird thing?”
Sean gave him a long look, then shrugged. “It’s what I didn’t see.”
“What do you mean?”
The short hairs on Dax’s forearms began to prickle as energy surged around the camp.
Sean leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving Dax. “I’m guessing it’s Incubus, Fury, or Dream Weaver, though the skin color is unusual.”
Dax drank in the power released by Sean’s words, his mind racing. “Excuse me?” His earlier impression that there was more to the younger man than he’d originally thought had just been proven right. Sean seemed friendly and curious rather than frightened, always a plus in these situations.
“The foofy tail. As far as I know, the only species with tails like yours are the three I just named.”
“Foofy?” Dax’s claws itched to escape and remove the amusement from Sean’s face. “I beg your pardon. My tail is elegant. Not foofy.” He spat the word through clenched teeth.
“Sorry, sweetie,” Maggie said, patting his hand. “It is pretty foofy. And cute.” She moved her attention to Sean. “So, you’re aware of the whole supernatural thing?”
Dax could feel the seething emotions beneath her calm façade. Her temper was getting ready to boil over; he just hoped he wasn’t going to be the one scorched.
“Yup,” Sean said.
“I’m a demon of chaos, half Incubus and half Fury.” Dax glared at his two companions, unable to resist adding, “Mock my tail at your peril.”
“Sex and vengeance equals chaos. Interesting.” Sean glanced over at Maggie. She blinked her eyes and looked innocent. Then both of them smirked at Dax, saying “Foofy,” in unison.
Grrrrr.
“I’m a journeyman mage,” Sean said. “Earlier, right before I got here, I felt the edge of the strongest terror wave I’ve ever encountered. Luckily, I’d stopped to avoid hitting a deer. Otherwise, I probably would have wrecked the car. I looked around for the cause.” He stopped, rubbing his arms as if he was chilled.
“And?” Maggie asked, her hand reaching blindly toward him. He linked his fingers through hers.
“Nothing. There was no magical signature, no aura of life, nothing. Just that paralyzing fear.”
Nodding, Dax said, “I couldn’t find anything either.”
“Don’t look at me,” Maggie said as both men turned to her. “I’m not secret demon mage chick.”
The saccharin sarcasm in her voice made both men wince.
“So,” she continued. “Since we don’t have any idea what unknown nasty just scared the crap out of all of us, maybe we should discuss other things.” The smile she gave Sean made the redhead flinch. “Mage?”
“Oh.” Sean looked flustered. “Well, it’s mostly a matter of style. Wizards do theoretical stuff, lots of math and complex formulas. Witches work with nature spirits; sorcerers use pure magic -- sort of like juggling dynamite and fire -- those guys are nuts. Mages, like me, are the craftsman of the bunch. We influence things, using objects we’ve created. In my case, the embroidery I do generally has magic woven into it.”
And we have yet another shocking revelation. Goody gumdrops. Maggie’s temper flared. “And thanks ever so for that little lesson in comparative magical studies.” Sean gulped and hunched down in his chair. “What I wanted to know is why I didn’t know you were a mage. Does everybody in this town know about magic but me?” Her voice rose as she spoke, and the last word was shouted. She was really getting sick of learning huge, honking secrets about the people she cared for.
In the silence that followed, only Maggie’s harsh breath was audible.
“It’s my fault,” Dax said.
Maggie drew a deep, shaky breath, fighting for control. “Talk.”
“Chaos. Sudden, unplanned change. Often violent.” He tried to pull his hand away from hers, but she refused to let him go. “Just by being here, I’m introducing more chaos into the system.” He tugged again to free his hand, but she just held tighter. “Take the break-in at the Forest Service, for example. Most likely, the person who did it has been planning something for a while. But they haven’t acted on the plans because the energy wasn’t there. Now, it is.”
Maggie’s anger whooshed out of her. What he was saying made sense. “Using the pond analogy, the most turbulent area is the place closest to the new water source. I understand.” She forced a smile. “I’m sorry for yelling.” She closed her eyes briefly, sighing. “I’m just tired.” And feeling very alone and foolish. It was the same reaction that she’d had on learning that one of her former lovers had cheated on her. She’d felt stupid for not suspecting.
“As far as I know, the magical community here in Keily is small. Less than fifty people.” Sean’s voice was soft, full of understanding and affection.
“Junior?”
“A very accomplished witch.”
The picture of the dignified police officer wearing a tall pointy hat and gripping a broom made her giggle. The edge of hysteria in it sobered her. “Officer Horace Oswald Davis, Junior: witch. It has a nice ring to it.” Maggie bit her lip until it bled, using the pain to keep herself from flying apart. Freaking out would be spectacularly unproductive, and they didn’t have the luxury of time right now.
“Why don’t you lay down for a bit?” Dax said.
“Come with me?” she asked, squeezing his hand. She glanced at Sean, uneasy at asking him to stay out here by himself, yet needing the comfort of having Dax close.
“Go,” Sean said. “I’ll keep watch.”
Maggie let Dax pull her upright. She watched as he took the holstered revolver from the chair pocket.
“Would you rather I left this here?” he asked Sean.
“Nah,” Sean said. “I’d rather have the shotgun. It’s more impressive.”
Maggie smiled at Sean. “Be careful. And thanks.”
“No worries. If I see anything remotely scary, I’ll scream like a little girl.”
“That should wake us up,” Dax said, chuckling.
Maggie crawled into the tent, Dax behind her. After a bit of fumbling, they were settled on the pallet. Dax lay on his back, and Maggie curled up next to him, her head on his good shoulder.
“Are you always the center of the hurricane?” She wasn’t sure she could live like that. Or that he would ask her to.
“When I’m working and expending a lot of energy, it can get interesting.”
She stroked his chest, his soft cotton shirt warm underneath her fingertips. “In the ancient Chinese curse kind of way?” She didn’t want to imagine life without him, but the constant upheaval was wearing her out. There was no way she could live like this for a long period of time.
“I met you.”
A smile curved her lips. As action-filled as the past few days had been, she had to admit that the good had, so far, outweighed the bad. “Romantic,” she accused. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“It’s not always -- or even nearly -- this dramatic. This is the biggest thing I’ve ever done.”
Not the answer she was looking for, but it would do for now. “That’s good to know.” Her hand strayed down, brushing across his fly.
“Sean’s right outside.”
“I know.” She raised her voice. “Sean?”
“Yeah, Mags?”
“I really need Dax to fuck me. Will that leave deep emotional scars?”
Dax tensed beneath her as Sean chuckled. “I’ll survive. Have your fun, then rest.”
&n
bsp; “Cool.” She rubbed harder. “Dax? Problems?”
He tugged at her until she was sprawled across him. “With voyeurism? None at all.” He swiped her chin with his tongue and called, “Hey, Sean, if you feel like jerking off, go for it. I’d invite you in to watch, but we don’t want the bad guys to sneak up on us.”
“Dax!” Maggie’s skin flushed with a combination of embarrassment and arousal. She ran her hands over his sides, not quite hard enough to tickle. The thought of being watched by, and watching two handsome men, was a fantasy she’d never quite admitted to herself.
“You started it.” He pulled off her shirt, then her bra.
She squeaked when he gave her a long, wet swipe of his tongue between her breasts. To her disappointment, his tongue felt human. “I seem to remember someone boasting about ‘nine inches of prehensile tongue.’”
“Holy shit,” came Sean’s startled exclamation. “Sorry, guys. Carry on.”
Dax laughed, his body pressing deliciously against her center. “I’d like to wait until you can see me. I don’t want you to have any regrets.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” She sat back and carefully unbuttoned his shirt, wishing she could just tear it apart. Later, when his shoulder was fully healed, she’d try that.
“I won’t break, you know.”
She pressed her naked chest against him, reveling in the skin-on-skin contact. “Are you complaining about my technique?”
“No.” He used his good arm to grab her butt and hauled her up higher on his chest. Before she could protest, his mouth closed on her nipple.
“Mmmm. That’s good,” she said, as the inexplicable connection between tit and clit made her wet. While his mouth worked at her breasts, his hands kneaded her ass. Desperate for more contact, she rubbed her crotch against his stomach, the wonderful friction making her pussy flush with need.